Join your Fellow Man
by PowderMonkey
Summary: Until now, Women in the navy was simply a fantasy to get the crew through the rough and lonely nights at sea, but what will their reactions be to the three new - stunning - midshipmen as they grace the Justinian with their presence? HH,AK,Wellard/OFC's
1. The New Arrival

**Join Your Fellow Man**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hornblower or any of it's characters, Victoria, Rowan, and Sarah are mine though.**

This story is a joint effort between me and my friend Higher Magic, **constructive** criticism welcome. Please keep flames contained in the galley stove.

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**Chapter 1 – The New Arrival**

Victoria climbed up the side of the ship as nimbly as any old tar and scrambled, rather less gracefully, up onto the deck. She stood next to her sea chest, kindly brought up by a sympathetic sailor, and looked around, totally bewildered. It was not the first time she had been on a ship; she had been a passenger once on a merchantman returning from Jamaica. Her father owned a plantation there and she had gone out to see him. This was very different though, when she was a passenger there were people waiting to greet her on deck, and she travelled with a pair of maids who were under strict orders to keep her out of trouble. Here, she felt alone and lost.

There were a few people wandering around on deck, but no one came over to talk to her. It was just after two o'clock in the afternoon and the sun was shining, but it was rather cold; she hugged her arms to her chest, as much a defensive gesture as a means of warming up. She had no idea what to do or who to talk to. In her sailor's handbook it said she must make herself known to a senior officer, but she couldn't see one. She had been standing there for nearly five whole minutes, just looking around when a man came over to her. He was an officer, a midshipman by the looks of it, and she was grateful to see him; although the idea of talking to someone she didn't know made her stomach coil nervously.

"Are you alright? You look rather lost." Kennedy smiled to try and put her at ease; she relaxed a little and smiled faintly back at him.

"I'm the new midshipman…come aboard," she said, stating the obvious and biting her lip when she realised she had done so. "Victoria Munroe." She held out her hand daintily for him to shake, imitating what her father did when meeting people. He shook it with an amused twist of his lips.

"Welcome to the Justinian."

"Thank you, Mister….?"

"Kennedy."

"Mr Kennedy," she said, her voice perfectly ladylike. Kennedy inwardly pitied the girl, he was sure she wouldn't last long in the Navy. He wondered why the Admiralty had bothered with this absurd experiment; it could never work.

"Captain Keene will probably like to see you, now you've arrived, I'm afraid you're the first one though." He called over a grey haired sailor in a checked shirt and instructed him to take Victoria's sea chest to the midi's berth. The sailor picked it up easily and left, acknowledging them both respectfully as 'Sir' and 'Miss.'

"How many more women are you expecting?" Victoria asked as they walked across the deck.

"Only two." They stopped outside the captain's day cabin and Kennedy knocked.

"What is it?"

"Midshipman Munroe, come aboard. You wanted to see her Sir," Kennedy said, raising his voice slightly so the captain could hear.

"Send her in," the captain replied, before coughing loudly. Kennedy opened the door and gave Victoria a reassuring look as she went into the cabin, then he shut it quietly behind her.

Captain Keene turned to Victoria. "So, you are the first female officer, ever to enter the Royal Navy."

"Yes Sir," Victoria said tentatively.

"Lets hope you can measure up to the men." Keene coughed into a grimy handkerchief and continued. "What do you know about sailing?" He didn't expect her to know anything, and only nodded when this was confirmed, "I expect you will learn quickly enough, lucky for you, that we are not a fighting vessel." His voice was getting fainter as he spoke. "This is not going to be easy for you, being a woman; but if you do your duty as an officer, and do it well, the men will respect you." He turned to his desk and shuffled through some papers. "We have, two more women arriving. You will sleep with the other midshipmen, but at the insistence of the good Admiral, we have set up a curtain, so you may have some privacy." He gave a wheezing laugh,

"Apart from that, you will have no special treatment, or privileges, as you are just, in the eyes of the crew, another midshipman."

"Yes Sir."

"That will be all." Victoria was about to curtsey, but checked herself, and made a quick bow instead. Keene shook his head after she left, aware that this whole arrangement was likely to end in some sort of disaster. "Women in the Navy indeed," he muttered to himself, wondering what the world was coming to.

Kennedy met her outside. "Now, let me show you to the midshipman's berth, and I'll introduce you to a few of the inmates." She smiled weakly, but at the mention of more introductions the snake in her belly returned. Kennedy must have sensed her apprehension and again found himself trying to make her feel better. "Don't worry, you're not the only newcomer, we had a mid arrive a couple of weeks ago. You'll be fine." He was on the verge of telling her how Hornblower had been seasick when he first arrived, but figured that that possibility would give her something else to worry about, so he kept quiet. Again, the thought that this delicate girl was completely unsuitable for life in the Navy entered his mind.

Victoria was having similar thoughts, and was angry at herself for letting her nervousness show. She was such a shy girl, but as she frequently told herself, she really needed to get over this fear if she was to survive anywhere in the world.

They descended some wooden stairs and he lead her through the next deck, this one though was crowded. She kept her head bowed and hoped no one would notice her under the large bicorn hat she wore, but a few of the men whistled as she walked past. She saw Kennedy tense slightly, but they both chose to ignore the whistles as they reached the midshipman's berth. Kennedy led her to a curtained off section with three hammocks in and informed her this was where she would be sleeping, her sea chest was already there against the wall. For some reason Victoria found that the familiar object brought her comfort. She took off her hat and dropped it on the nearest hammock, taking off her cloak as well.

She had long brown hair hanging in a plait to the middle of her back; hazel eyes and quite a petite figure: her head was just above Kennedy's shoulder. Kennedy also noticed that she wore exactly the same uniform as all the other Midshipmen, except her coat was slightly tailored to better fit her female form, and a very female form it was, Kennedy thought to himself, suddenly approving of her.

"Are you ready?" he asked after a second, still smiling kindly.

"Um…alright...yes." She sounded unsure, but she left the makeshift room and followed him to a low crowded table.

"Gentlemen! If I could have your attention please!" He nearly had to shout to be heard over the sound of a violin playing a lively tune in the corner. The violin stopped, and all the men at the table turned towards him. "This is the new midshipman, Victoria Munroe." He went to a free seat and sat down, nodding to the space next to him. She followed quickly and sat down without saying a word. The man across from her opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again when another entered the room. The man who entered was very tall and had sandy hair; he leered at her as he came in and sat down at the end of the table.

"Well who are you then?" he asked roughly, taking a gulp from the nearest mug and setting it down again.

"Victoria Munroe, the new midshipman," she said quietly, and with a nervous smile in his direction.

"Speak up, I can't hear you." He began grabbing items of food from the plates of the people closest to him and didn't look at her as she tried again, a little louder.

"I'm Victoria Munroe, the new midshipman." She raised her voice, perhaps a little more than was necessary, wondering if he was deaf.

"You're a woman." He didn't look up from his food.

"Yes, the Admiralty, they thought….well, they might bring women into the Navy… I'm the first you see…." She trailed off, unsure of what to say.

"And what's your secret?" He looked at her this time, menacing.

"W…What? I'm afraid I don't understand." She frowned.

"I know everyone's secrets." He stared straight into her eyes. "What's yours?" He had raised his voice a little and his stare was really quite intimidating.

"I..I.." She turned to Kennedy, but he was staring straight down at the table and did not meet her eyes. "I don't have any secrets," she finally managed, speaking quietly again.

"Everybody has secrets!" He had raised his voice even louder and was almost yelling at her. "But don't worry," he added in a softer tone that somehow seemed worse than the shouting. "We can have a little talk tonight and I'll find them out." He didn't smile at her, but continued staring straight into her eyes. Now she knew how the foxes felt when her brothers went out hunting on the family estate.

"Don't worry," he must have noticed the look on her face, "I don't bite." His gaze flicked across to Kennedy, who shivered almost imperceptibly.

"Mr Simpson!" a man yelled from somewhere, "Lieutenant Eccleston wants to see you on deck."

"Damn." Simpson slammed his hand on the table but rose quickly, and stormed out, leaving the other midshipmen in an uneasy peace for the time being.

When he was gone, Victoria let out a breath she did not realise she had been holding and lowered her eyes to the table. That was petrifying. Her eyes wandered to the mug in front of her and she picked it up and sniffed it.

"Try it," Kennedy almost whispered from beside her. She glanced at him but he was smiling again. She raised the mug to her lips and took a small sip, wrinkling her nose.

"You don't like it?"

"It's a little strong for me." She put the mug down again. Kennedy shook his head, how anyone could think that their watery grog was strong was beyond him.

"So, Archie," said the man opposite him, engaging Kennedy in conversation. Victoria glanced up at the man at the same moment his eyes flickered over to appraise her. He looked away sharply and continued his conversation with Archie. The grey haired man in the corner picked up his violin again and began to play softly, Victoria briefly looked up at him and he smiled at her, nodding his head in greeting. Victoria turned her attention back at the table and spent the next few hours gazing dully at it; ignored by everyone else and locked in her thoughts. Well, almost ignored, the man opposite kept glancing down at her as if he were about to speak to her, but thought better of it. She didn't notice.

"She's not listening, Horatio," Archie said to his friend after he had finally worked up the courage to talk to her.

"What? Sorry, were you talking to me?" Victoria lifted her head from where it had eventually ended up, resting on her raised hands with her elbows on the table. She had obviously been startled out of her thoughts and both the men laughed.

"Horatio wanted to know why you joined the Navy," Archie prompted.

"Oh." She turned her attention to the man opposite. "Um, you know about the experiment?"

"Not in detail."

"Well," Victoria began, playing with the mug in front of her, Archie listened in, and soon she found the whole room was listening. None of them really knew what was going on. "The Admiralty decided to try putting women in the Navy; and…it's kind of a long story." She paused, not sure if they really cared or were just trying to include her. She didn't want to dominate the conversation.

"Go on," encouraged the man, now identified as Horatio. Victoria risked a swift glance at his eyes, they were intense and soulful, but playful at the same time.

"It all started a few years ago when some scientist came back from an expedition in Africa, he was a friend of someone's at the Admiralty, and at a dinner party he was telling them about his trip." She shook her head. "Crazy really." Archie was about to ask why this was crazy, but she continued before he had chance to speak. "At one point he observed that the female animals, when around their young, were much more aggressive than male animals of the same species, and someone made a jest about sending the women out to fight instead of the men." She laughed. "Unfortunately that suggestion was discussed and…. Well, you can see where it led to."

"That's certainly… an unusual way of doing things," said Archie.

"So why did you choose to volunteer for this experiment?" asked Horatio, leaning slightly forward as if they were discussing something secret.

"I had always wanted to go on an adventure, and of course, I was an avid reader of all those romantic novels about dashing young officers in the Navy that all us girls like to giggle over." Her eyes were faraway when she said this, like she was remembering. Suddenly she blushed and giggled, remembering a particular conversation with one of her friends over just such a book. Archie and Horatio looked at each other and raised their eyebrows, wondering just what was in these books about dashing young naval officers. Victoria composed herself. "Sorry."

"That's quite alright," said Horatio. "Carry on." He waved his hand to tell her to proceed. Victoria bit her lip and it looked very much like she was trying not to laugh again.

"Anyway," she said after a pause "When my father found out about this experiment he told us at dinner and I insisted that he should put me forward for it. My mother was shocked, and my brothers, well, they thought it was wonderful that their younger sister should go to sea. My father wasn't best pleased but after a while I persuaded him to let me go and eventually he talked my mother round. He wrote to my uncle, and a few weeks later I was sent a package with a list of things I needed to buy and a sailing handbook. I suppose you know how the rest goes."

"Who is your uncle," asked Archie, "a Captain?"

"He's…no one." She didn't think they needed to know, for once she was tired of being treated specially because of her family connections.

"Well he must have been someone to get you into the Navy," Horatio said.

"Really, it doesn't matter."

"What's this?" Simpson appeared in the doorway. "Looks like someone does have secrets after all." He walked into the room and Victoria turned around to watch him, but when he came up behind her she looked at Horatio, panicked. Simpson put one large hand on each of her shoulders and leaned close to her ear. "You were saying?" Victoria tried to stand up, but he pushed her into her seat again. "No, you stay where you are." The midshipman in the corner stopped playing the violin, and out of the corner of his eye Jack saw him put a hand on the pistol in his belt, warning him.

"Another time then," Jack said, releasing Victoria and going to sit at the head of the table, he'd make Clayton pay for that later. The next hour was passed tensely, with hardly any conversation, Clayton resumed his playing, and everyone else retreated into their thoughts. Simpson occasionally spoke to the toadies next to him, but other than that kept mercifully silent. Or maybe not so mercifully, if Victoria knew what he was planning for her.

When Simpson left for his watch, everyone breathed an inward sigh of relief. The atmosphere in the midi's mess was still uneasy, but gradually it relaxed. The conversations were rekindled, but thankfully no one mentioned Victoria's uncle again. Archie and Horatio tried to include Victoria in their conversation, asking her opinions on things, but she had always been taught not to have opinions, and so she politely excused herself after a while and went to curl up on her hammock alone.

She reflected on her day, and was soon reduced to tears by the realisation of what she had got herself into. She had wanted an adventure, but this was not what she had in mind; this was no place for her. She could hear the sailors on the gun deck swearing and singing bawdy songs. It was language no lady should ever be subjected to. She remembered when she was back at home, how she had gone riding and hunting with her brothers, and she had thought herself a rebel for not riding side saddle. She had always liked the idea of independence, and on more than one occasion had been snapped at to hold her tongue by her mother when giving her opinion on a subject. Strange how she had suddenly surrounded herself with the image of a perfect lady when coming aboard the ship; it was like she almost didn't want to fit in. It wasn't like her. At home she had always fit in, wherever she was; she had been capable of climbing trees and fishing, and mock fighting with her brothers in the morning, and putting on the most distinguished graces and elegance for a high society ball in the evening. It seemed like she was a completely different person now, a frightened young lady in a world full of men. She had always thought herself tough when she fought with her brothers and she got bloodied knees and didn't cry; she was only now realising how weak she really was, and how insignificant. All her romantic dreams of running away to sea and having great adventures, and falling in love with a dashing young officer were fast fading, and after only one afternoon on board ship; and not a particularly difficult one at that. And, after all that had run it's course through her mind, she was yet to realise that things could get much, much worse.

Victoria hugged her arms tighter to her, she was cold, despite the stuffiness of the ship, and for a moment she pathetically wished her mother was there to reassure her that everything would be alright. She shook her head stubbornly, trying not to think of her family and what she had left behind, instead she fixed her eyes on the wall and forced herself to conjure up one of her favourite fantasies: that she was the captain of a pirate ship and she had just taken a Royal Navy frigate. The handsome young captain, impressed by her fighting skills and air of command had fallen in love with her, and at present was walking up behind her with amorous intentions as she stood on the quarterdeck of her ship, gazing out over the sea.

The captain looked exactly like she had always imagined him, but it was only after a few minutes that she realised he also looked exactly like someone she had met: the man sitting across from her in the midi's mess…Horatio. Victoria tried to alter the appearance of the captain in her mind, but none looked so good as the original. Resignedly, and deciding it didn't matter anyway, she continued to fantasise about the now, much more real captain until she fell asleep.

A little while later, Midshipman Kennedy poked his head around the curtain wall that separated the women's sleeping quarters from the men's. Victoria was curled up in her hammock, sound asleep, and still wearing her boots and coat. He smiled and turned away, sighing wistfully and wishing sleep would find him as easily.

As he and the other midshipmen got into their hammocks, Simpson returned from the deck above. He seemed to be in a very bad mood, but no one dared to ask him why. As he took his coat off, he casually inquired as to how the new midshipman was faring. Everyone exchanged worried glances, he noted with pleasure, but they told him that she was already asleep and begged him to leave her so. Ignoring their protests, he pushed aside the curtain and crept over to her hammock.

When the curtain fell back into place, the other midshipmen said nothing, but after a while, when no noise had come from the other side of the curtain, they drifted into sleep. All except two; Midshipman Kennedy and his dark haired friend, Midshipman Hornblower; they were still lying awake in their hammocks which hung next to each other. Listening.

"What do you think he'll do to her Archie?" asked Hornblower.

"I don't know." Kennedy rolled over, turning away from his friend, knowing that his words were a lie.

Simpson watched her sleeping for a minute, deciding whether to go through with his plan or not. It was her first night, but then, the earlier she learned her place the better. Besides, he had just been berated by Lt Eccleston and his temper was high, he needed something to take it out on, and a change from young Kennedy would be nice – delightful as it was to see the boy in pain.

He hovered closer to Victoria and began to ease her coat off, dropping it to the floor with a rustle. Both the listening midshipmen's eyes widened slightly with the easily identifiable sound, and even more so when her white waistcoat was unbuttoned and dropped beside it. The two midshipmen could see the garments, and Simpson's booted feet through the wide gap under the curtain.

On the other side of the screen, Simpson put a hand on either side of Victoria's waist, taking his weight on his forearms as he lifted first one foot, and then the other into the hammock. Midshipman Kennedy watched Simpson's feet disappear and screwed his eyes tightly shut, trying to block out the memories that threatened to surface.

Victoria sighed and rolled onto her back, Simpson realised she was still asleep and decided it was time to wake her up. He put his head close to hers and whispered tenderly in her ear, as if he spoke to a lover. "Wake up little one." She didn't wake but he persisted, pressing her shoulders back hard into the canvas and whispering to her. When she opened her eyes, his face was inches from hers, she tried to scream, but he clapped a hand over her mouth; preventing her from doing so.

"Now." He was still whispering, but his voice had taken on a menacing quality. "We're going to have a little talk, and you're going to answer every single one of my questions. Understand?" He didn't leave much room for a choice and Victoria did her best to nod.

Of the two midshipmen who had been awake, only one now was. Kennedy had blissfully found sleep, odd as that was in the circumstances; but his friend Midshipman Hornblower was still wide awake. Still listening to what was happening beyond the canvas wall. He wanted to sleep, but he felt guilty doing so; he knew that he could not best Simpson in a fight if he tried anything, but he just couldn't sleep and leave Victoria alone. Even if she didn't know he was there.

"So what's your dirty little secret?" asked Simpson. She kept silent. "Well, let's start with something easy. How did you get into the navy?"

"The Admiralty-." He cut her off.

"No, I know about the experiment. But why were you chosen? Sleep with someone did you? Old Captain Keene perhaps?" Horatio fought to keep that sickening mental image out of his head.

"No." She struggled and Simpson backhanded her across the face. Hornblower winced on her behalf as he heard a faint crack; he knew what Simpson could – and would do. Silently, he slipped out of his hammock and edged towards the curtain, looking through the tiny gap at the side.

"Who 's your uncle then? That's easy enough." Victoria said nothing.

Simpson slapped Victoria again and climbed out of the hammock, standing with his back to the curtain. Victoria took a few deep gulps of air as the weight on her chest was lifted, but he grabbed the front of her billowy white shirt with both hands and hauled her into a sitting position with her legs dangling over the side of the hammock. Her hair was messy, but still in its plait, and her lower lip was bleeding profusely. Simpson must have hit her hard.

"Now." Simpson shook her; she stared at him defiantly, but her eyes were beginning to rim with red. "I think it's time you learned how we do things around here, and since no one else is around to explain, I'll have to do it myself."

"First, if I want anything, anything at all from you, you give it to me. Alright?"

"That depends what it is," she croaked out. Angrily Simpson grabbed her and pulled her off the hammock, pushing her forcefully into the side of the ship. He put one hand on her throat.

"Anything." He growled at her, increasing the pressure.

"Anything," she agreed, fearing for her life now.

"Good, you're learning. Now take your shirt off."

"What?" She gasped, wide eyed with panic. Simpson put his free hand in the collar of her shirt and yanked downwards, causing it to rip down the middle. Victoria began to try and struggle against the hand on her throat, but soon he was pressing on the flesh so much that she couldn't breathe. She tried to scream, but not a single sound came out, and a disturbing black frame appeared on the edges of her vision.

Hornblower, eyes glued to the spectacle by shock, knew he had to do something, but what could he do? He was unarmed and by the time he had found his pistol things might be a whole lot worse for Victoria. So he did the first thing he could think of.

"Mr Simpson!" He said sharply, stepping out from behind the curtain. Probably not the most intimidating thing to say, but he figured it would do.

"Come to join in have you, Snotty?" Simpson dropped Victoria carelessly and started advancing on Hornblower. Horatio stole a quick glance at the girl on the floor; she was curled up in a tight ball and was crying now, clutching at her throat and trying to breathe properly.

"Well, there's plenty for the both of us, but I'm afraid you'll have to wait your turn." His voice was low and he looked hideously sinister in the gloom as he advanced on Hornblower. Luckily Matthews had heard the commotion and he wasted no time in finding out what was keeping him from his sleep.

"Mr Simpson Sir, may I ask what you're doing at this time of night; it's just, the men are trying to sleep." Matthews asked in his humblest of tones, trying not to incur Simpson's unpredictable wrath.

"I was just talking to the other midshipmen about their duties," Simpson said through gritted teeth. Matthews looked pointedly at Victoria who was sitting with her back to the wall and her head in her hands, he looked back at Simpson.

"Perhaps we should _all_ go to sleep now Sir; Captain doesn't need to know." Simpson recognised the warning, and thought for a few seconds before pushing roughly past Hornblower and disappearing behind the curtain. Matthews nodded to Victoria but spoke to Horatio. "You'd best be getting her back to sleep, and you'll need yours." Then he turned and walked out without another word or glance at either of them.

After a moment Horatio walked over to Victoria and crouched down next to her. She was still sniffling but she had stopped crying and was breathing fine now. He put an arm around her shoulders tentatively, in an attempt to comfort her, and she sank against him, resting her head on his shoulder.

"He's gone now. Simpson's gone now." He felt her nod. "Perhaps you should get back to sleep?" He suggested; she looked like she was falling asleep even now. She nodded again and he helped her stand up, holding her arm gently and guiding her back to her hammock. When she had climbed in and curled up again, Horatio turned to leave, but a pale hand clutched at his shirt and held him back.

"Please stay." Her eyes were closing as she spoke. "Just for a little bit?" Horatio could see she would fall asleep in a minute or two anyway so he agreed, reassuring her and climbing into the next hammock along from hers. He sat up awake for a few minutes but then, realising she was already asleep, he climbed out again and made his way quietly past the screen to his own.

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A virtual pint of rum for anyone who's made it this far!

And another for anyone who reviews!


	2. Another Cleveland

******Another Cleveland**

**Disclaimer**: If you recognise it, I don't own it, as much as i'd like to...

Oh, and I (Powder Monkey) am going on holiday for a week on the 9th, so there proably won't be an update for a while, not that i was very quick about this one, but oh well...

And, while we're on the subject, I give permission to anyone who sees Higher Magic to smack her over the head with a belaying pin because so far the story is not so much a team effort as a solitary ramble and her input is sorely missed.

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Victoria moaned and curled a hand over her exposed ear to block out the noise of breakfasting sailors, as a gentle, but insistent hand shifted her back into the waking world.

"Miss Munroe you really must get up."

Victoria mumbled a protest and reached for her thin blanket, pulling it over her head to block out the lantern light that tried cruelly to keep her from her sleep. "Miss Munroe!" Hornblower said a little louder, pulling the blanket away from her face.

"Go away Toby." Victoria croaked irritably, thinking she recognised the voice of the stable lad, but not bothering to question why he of all people was trying to wake her up.

"Toby?" Hornblower frowned, but his lips curled into a patient smile. "Miss Munroe," he shook her harder, "you need to get up and eat something before the day starts."

"Can't I eat in bed?" Victoria decided to brave the weak light that filtered below decks and cracked open one eye. She recognised the man standing over her, but it was not Toby. She opened the other eye and turned her head so as to get a better look at him. After a few seconds she got frustrated with her inability to place him and was forced to ask. "I'm sorry Sir, are we acquainted?"

Hornblower wasn't sure whether to grin at her almost comical state, or to be offended that he was forgotten.

"Horatio Hornblower," he said neutrally, avoiding the choice altogether, and stepping back slightly to allow her some space.

"Horatio… oh yes, I remember now!" Her face lit up briefly with a smile, then it disappeared again. "I'm sorry," She glanced around the compartment as if trying to remember that too. "There's been a lot to take in."

"Not at all," Horatio said, trying to look cheerful, "I'll just leave you to get up then," he ducked around the canvas curtain that separated the midi's quarters.

"Horatio?" Victoria called after him, her voice a little less croaky. "What time is it?" He poked his head back around the curtain.

"Just after six bells." He smiled and left, completely forgetting that bells were meaningless to her at the moment. Victoria let her head fall back on her pillow from where she had raised it slightly and blew a stream of air out from between her lips.

"Damn." It seemed appropriate in the situation.

Victoria lay there for another minute, becoming less and less drowsy by the second. In fact, she woke up remarkably quickly compared to what she was normally like. "Must be the sea air." She muttered to herself, unaware that she had just discovered the source to which she would begin to attribute practically everything. It was as good a scapegoat as any, she reasoned.

After rifling through her sea chest for her hairbrush, Victoria wandered into the mess and scanned the faces there for Horatio or Kennedy. Horatio had a space next to him and looked up at her with a welcoming smile as she walked in. Victoria sat down and tried to catch Kennedy's eye, his eyes were fixed on the table though and unwittingly she caught someone else's. Simpson. Victoria's first instinct was to get out of there, and she would have, if Horatio had not sensed this and put an arm discreetly around her waist. He thought it was in her best interests to stay, even if she didn't know it yet. It would not do to show weakness in front of Simpson; although, it did not do to show strength either he mused, remembering the beating Simpson had given him for that very offence. He removed his arm carefully once he was sure Victoria was not going to bolt. He would usually be very wary of putting his arm around a lady to restrain her in such a manner, but Keene had told everyone to treat the new arrivals just as any other man on the ship, and Hornblower took this advice to heart.

Victoria didn't look at Horatio, but once his hand left her waist she considered slipping her own hand below the table and squeezing his fingers in thanks. She didn't. It was a childish gesture, but she too realised the danger of showing weakness to Simpson. Her mother had always told her not to put up with men like that. She snuck a furtive glance at Archie again, careful not to meet Simpson's eyes. Simpson watched the line of her gaze and placed a hand significantly on Archie's arm, delighting in the tiny tremors he caused. He knew Archie had a friendly openness about him when he was not around, especially to new middies, but Simpson was feeling more possessive than usual, and wanted to make sure that everyone knew who Archie belonged to.

Victoria dropped her eyes to her hairbrush which she had set on the table and began to slowly tease the grosgrain ribbon out of her hair, she was surprised at how tangled it had become overnight, but at least it gave her something to concentrate on, as everyone else continued to eat in near silence. She dropped the ribbon on the table and combed her fingers through her plait to un-weave it, tossing her hair over her shoulder and pulling apart the top furrows, so her hair hung loose down her back. She didn't realise it, but she had closed her eyes in order to undo the plait easier, and as she reached for her hairbrush and tilted her head back slightly, she was completely unaware of the discomfort she was causing the other middies as they tried not to stare at her. She ran the brush through the strands first to untangle them, and then just for the feel of it. She loved brushing her hair, she was always absently brushing it at home when she could find nothing else to do, and she found it calmed her. Her hair was a mixture of pine tree bark and chocolate colouring, and it was usually pin straight. This morning however, it hung in shallow waves as it recovered from being plaited, and she didn't notice as one lock fell over her shoulder and Horatio looked decidedly away, reining in the urge to tuck it back with the rest of her hair.

Victoria swept the ribbon off the table and put it between her teeth, using both hands to gather her hair into a ponytail. She missed the lock that was annoying Horatio and took the ribbon out of her mouth, tying it in a neat bow around her perfectly glossy tresses. _'Not for long though.'_ She though ruefully, thinking about the lack of bathing water.

She smoothed her hands over the bow and opened her eyes, all the midshipmen, with the exception of Kennedy and Hornblower, were staring at her. "What?" She asked quietly, unsure of what she had done. The midshipmen all chose this cue to look away from her, and Victoria looked worriedly down at her food, picking at a piece of bread. Simpson didn't look away, but she was avoiding his eyes, so she didn't notice. He was very interested in this new midshipman, he thought, removing his hand from Kennedy's arm and tapping the table next to his plate contemplatively with his fingers. He suddenly felt less possessive of Kennedy as he pictured her perfect white neck, and the look of contentment on her face when she tilted her head back. He imagined a look of pain on her face instead and grinned, hoping he would be the one to cause it. On this thread he continued for the next half hour, devising ways to make the new midshipman suffer; angelic-looking Kennedy forgotten like an old toy.

At eight bells the midshipman went on deck for a navigation lesson; the sun was uncomfortably hot, and Victoria didn't like heat at the best of times; she much preferred the cold. She puzzled over the slate in her hands, she had never had much aptitude for mathematics, and this was no exception. She rubbed out some of her chalk scribblings with her sleeve and absently began to draw instead as she fretted over the question set to them.

"Shore boat ahoy!" yelled the lieutenant of the watch, Mr Chadd.

"Aye, aye!" The reply was easily heard in the still morning air, and Victoria looked up, wondering who was about to come aboard. She hoped it was one of the new officers, she didn't like being the only female on the ship; or, the only one she knew of.

"Are you finished, Miss Munroe?" Asked Captain Keene, noticing her inattention to her slate and walking over to inspect it.

"No Sir, I was just thinking… about the problem." She clarified, trying to discreetly hide with her arm the dragon that had begun to take form on her slate.

"Very well." Keene nodded and took a few steps away, standing in front of the working officers with his hands behind his back. A few moments later, a hat appeared at the entry port, and Lt Chadd bent down to hand the figure up onto the deck. Victoria glanced over and smiled with a measure of relief; it was another woman! Keene noticed her arrival and walked over to greet her. They spoke quietly for a minute and Keene turned to the midshipmen perched on the grating. "Miss Munroe, perhaps you could show Miss Cleveland to her quarters."

"Aye aye Sir," Victoria jumped up and wiped the dragon off her slate as she did so, just in case anyone caught sight of it. She put the slate down on the gratings with her stub of chalk and walked over to the new woman. Keene turned aside and walked off, giving Victoria an uninterrupted view of the new mid. Her eyes widened slightly. "Annabelle?" She gasped, covering the distance with a few quick steps and standing in front of her old friend. "What are you doing here?"

"The same as you!" Annabelle laughed. Chadd raised his eyebrows at the unusual exchange.

"I thought you were going to be a governess?" Victoria said in disbelief, wondering why on earth her mild mannered friend had gone from ideas of raising children, to killing their parents in bloody naval battles.

"And I thought you had your heart set on being a dressmaker!" Said Sarah, causing Chadd to look at Victoria with a more critical eye. _'How can two such feminine woman possibly hope to survive on a warship?'_ He wondered, hoping the last one would be a bit better suited to the task when she arrived. _'although, they're not alone.'_ His eyes raked over the other pathetic midshipmen who hoped to make officers some day. Victoria and Annabelle moved off, still chatting, over to the ladder which would take them below decks.

"Mind the steps, they're steep," Victoria cautioned. Annabelle gingerly went down, swallowing when she reached the bottom and was confronted by the long row of guns on the deck. "Quite a sight." Victoria noticed her friend's awed look, "but you should see it filled with sailors." The sailors in question were currently scurrying around on the weather deck or in the rigging, for once being kept busy by Eccleston whose mood had inexplicably turned for the worse. Annabelle touched one of the guns as she passed, her fingers drifting over the cold metal.

"Victoria, we won't actually be expected to fire these will we?"

"No, but you'll command a gun crew." Annabelle took a deep breath and followed Victoria slowly, trailing her fingers over each cannon as she passed. The solidity of the objects made everything seem more real, and with each gun she touched, the 'adventure' of life on a ship faded, and the actuality of life in the Royal Navy sunk in.

"Well, this is the Midshipmen's berth." Victoria gestured to a space at the end of the gun deck, "and these," she pushed aside a canvas curtain "are our quarters." Annabelle went inside the small improvised room and looked around.

"Where do we sleep?" She could see no furniture in the room except for Victoria's sea chest, "and how do I get my sea chest down here?"

"We sleep in hammocks, they're rolled up during the day and stowed in the netting on deck; as for your sea chest, someone will bring it down for you I should think." Annabelle nodded. "Now," Victoria opened her sea chest, "you can put your cloak in here for now and we'd best be getting back on deck, I don't think Captain Keene will be very happy if we stay down here for long." She remembered the problem that was waiting for her when she returned and hoped they had finished the lesson when she got back, she knew she shouldn't delay below decks but she really hated mathematics. Annabelle folded her cloak neatly and laid it in the chest. Victoria closed the lid and they left the berth, Victoria walking slightly more slowly along the deck this time. Annabelle didn't touch the cannons as she passed, but couldn't help but stare at them. They all had names on their carriages, names like 'Jumping Billy' and 'Jack the Smasher.' Her lip curled in distaste at the weapons and she suddenly felt the need to be away from them, alighting the steps quicker than was necessary and following her friend into the sunlight.

When they got back onto deck the midshipmen had dispersed and the lesson had ended, much to Victoria's relief. Lt Eccleston called to them from the quarterdeck.

"Ah, Miss Munroe, I trust our new arrival is settled?"

"Yes Sir."

"Good, now fetch your sextant and lay aloft with the other Midshipmen."

"Aye aye Sir." Victoria touched her hat and left, inwardly groaning in frustration, she couldn't use a sextant very well either.

Eccleston turned to Annabelle, "Miss Cleveland the Captain will see you in his cabin."

"Aye aye Sir." She mimicked Victoria's salute and started off, before realising she didn't know where the Captain's cabin was. Eccleston noticed her hesitation, and correctly guessing the problem, came up beside her and offered to show her to the cabin. Annabelle gratefully accepted.

Victoria sighed and shifted her leg, feeling the blood return to her toes. She leaned back against the mast and lowered her sextant, looking instead over the calm grey waters of Spithead. A slight breeze ruffled the tendrils of hair that had escaped from her plait, and she smiled and closed her eyes, completely forgetting where she was and just enjoying the moment. A stronger breeze rocked Victoria's hat and she put her hand up to it – and squealed in pain. Horatio, having a terrible fear of heights, had grabbed on to the nearest thing when the breeze threatened his stability; unfortunately, this turned out to be Victoria's thigh, as she was sitting cross-legged next to him, and his fingers were digging into the pale flesh on the inside of her leg and doubtless leaving bruises. Victoria slapped his hand, and he turned to her, his eyes alight with panic. Victoria considered, and then pried his hand off her leg and held it tightly with her own.

"You won't fall, Horatio." Horatio looked pointedly down at the deck. "I promise." She said, squeezing his fingers and raising her sextant once again. Archie noticed their exchange over his shoulder and cocked an eyebrow, but decided not to mention their lack of concentration to Lt Hale who was obliviously continuing with his class.

"I think, that women are completely unsuitable, for a life in the Navy. Let us see, if you can prove me wrong." Keene finished, smiling at Annabelle. "That will do." Annabelle made a pathetic attempt at a salute and went out, taking a deep breath outside the cabin and walking out onto the deck. She looked around, and saw the other Midshipmen descending the starboard ratlines. Relieved at finding Victoria again, she walked over to them.

"Victoria!" She called, waving her hand to catch her friend's attention. Victoria nodded to her and jumped down onto the deck, followed very closely by another midshipman with dark hair.

"Annabelle," Victoria came over to her friend, "how did it go?"

"I don't think Captain Keene is too happy about having female officers on his ship, but he seems nice enough." Annabelle surmised, looking over Victoria's shoulder at the midshipman with dark hair. "Victoria, would you introduce me to some of the other midshipmen? It would be nice to know a few more people on the ship."_ He is absolutely divine. _Annabelle thought, studying the boy over Victoria's shoulder and hoping they would be introduced.

"Of course." Victoria looked around, "Oh look there's Archie!" She took Annabelle forrad to meet a thoughtful looking young midshipman, of about her own age, with golden brown hair and shining blue eyes. Annabelle scowled inwardly. The midshipman turned and leaned against the polished wooden rail, smiling at them as they approached. Victoria made the introductions and Archie swept up Annabelle's hand and playfully kissed it. Annabelle giggled and pulled her hand away causing Victoria to roll her eyes at the re-emergence of the Annabelle she knew years ago. The annoying, giggly, ever happy and ever energetic Annabelle, that Victoria thought had grown up and gone. Obviously not. Victoria left Annabelle with Archie and went over to talk to Horatio.

"Annabelle likes you." Victoria said bluntly as she walked up to him.

"Oh." Horatio shifted his weight to his other foot uncomfortably, "did she say that to you?"

"No, but it's fairly obvious." Victoria sat down on a cannon, "she keeps staring at you." Horatio adjusted the cuffs of his jacket self consciously and fixed his eyes on the deck.

"I'm sure it's not that." Horatio spoke to the caulking in between the planks.

"As you wish." Victoria said, hopping off the cannon as Lieutenant Eccleston glared at her.

Most of the midshipmen spent the rest of the day idling on deck; Hether and Simpson were sent on an errand onshore, and occasionally Lieutenant Eccleston, whose mood was only gradually improving, told them to do something useful with their time. Horatio, ever the dutiful midshipman, decided to do something useful in the way of talking to Victoria. He spotted her by the taffrail and made his way purposely over to her. As he approached she turned and saw him, then quickly turned away again. If he could read minds, he probably would have turned and walked briskly away again with his cheeks burning in embarrassment, but as it was, he walked up to her, oblivious to her musings. Victoria bit her lip to subdue a laugh of surprise and tried to suppress all the similes and metaphors that threatened to surface, concerning Horatio's, _devilishly desirable_, person. Horatio came up beside her and rested his hand on the rail next to hers. Victoria tried to remember her mother's words for difficult situations such as these. _'Close your eyes and think of England.' _It didn't work, Victoria was all too aware of Horatio standing next to her to think of anything else.

"Victoria," he began awkwardly, wondering how best to approach the subject. Victoria turned to him, her cheeks noticeably glowing. "I was wondering," he cleared his throat nervously, "I was wondering why you would think Annabelle finds me… appealing. I mean, what has she done that would lead you to that conclusion?" He was fishing for information, he wanted to know what small, unconscious signs women usually gave when in the presence of a man they fancied, and where better to find out than from the horse's mouth?

"Well, she's been staring at you all day, I'd think that was a pretty strong indication." Victoria looked back over the water, hoping Horatio hadn't noticed herself committing that very same act.

"Hmm, anything else?"

"She blushes when you look at her, and she fiddles with her hair a lot when you're near." Victoria stilled her fingers that had been unconsciously worrying the end of her long plait.

Horatio saw Victoria deliberately cease the movement of her left hand. "Really? I hadn't noticed." Although they were speaking about Annabelle on the surface, the conversation felt strangely intimate. Horatio's mind was going a mile a minute and although very much subtler and almost consciously hidden, he was sure he could detect those very same tendencies in the girl standing next to him. He decided to test his theory by shifting ever so slightly closer to Victoria. He felt her arm tense where he touched it and looking down he perceived a slight movement as the nail on the index finger of her left hand scratched almost imperceptibly at the wood. He grinned and took a step away, he liked being right. He had often heard Hether complaining about a woman's mind being impossible to comprehend, and felt rather smug at being able to conquer the workings of it so easily. Or so he thought.

The next day brought rain, hard and relentless, pattering on the decks and working into the fibres of the running rigging. Horatio sat at the table in the middies berth, studying a drawing of the different parts of a cannon and how it worked. Victoria fidgeted next to him, alternating between staring around the room restlessly and drumming her fingertips on the table. Both were irritating, and after receiving several pointed looks from the other occupants of the berth and a few hissed exclamations of her name by Annabelle, Victoria got the hint.

"I love the rain." She said quickly, getting up, "I think I'll go up on deck." She darted out of the berth and disappeared among the riotous sailors on the gun deck.

"Captain'll be angry if she catches cold." Cleveland said, not raising his eyes from his raunchy novel.

"It'll be her own fault if she does." Simpson said uncaringly.

"Perhaps someone should go fetch her back?" Clayton said, putting down his violin and preparing to go up on deck.

"Hornblower, you go." Simpson said, envisioning them both coming back, dripping and sneezing and thoroughly miserable. Horatio frowned and re read the last sentence, trying to make sense of it all.

"Hornblower!" Simpson slammed his hand down on the table. Horatio held up his index finger in acknowledgement but carried on reading, being so engrossed in the text that he forgot exactly who was ordering him and just how dangerous it was to disobey.

"I'll go Jack." Clayton stood up and edged around the table.

"Stay where you are Clayton," Jack's voice was menacing. In the back of his mind, Clayton wondered why Jack made such a big deal of everything; he sighed and sat back down again. Jack narrowed his eyes at the older man and picked up his empty tin mug.

"Hornblower!"

"Mmhmm?" Horatio was glued to the print. Jack made an angry growl in his throat and threw the mug at Horatio, hitting him in the side of the head.

"What was that for?" Horatio demanded angrily. The mug hadn't hurt him as it was very light, but he was annoyed at having been distracted from his reading.

"Go up on deck and fetch Victoria down here, now."

Horatio glared at Simpson but retrieved his cloak and left the berth, muttering curses under his breath at the man, and as an afterthought, a few less filthy ones at Victoria for going up in the first place.

Horatio had to shield his eyes from the driving rain in order to look around the deck, and after a few frustrating minutes he saw Victoria leaning against the larboard mizzen shrouds, her fingers wrapped around the tarred rope, and her face turned up to catch the rain. Her eyes were closed, and as he came closer, Horatio could hear her quietly singing to herself. He would have stopped to admire the picture she made standing there, but the rain and the slight wind made him irritable and cold, and reminded him why he was there. He stopped next to her and put a hand on her shoulder.

"Victoria." Her eyes flew open and she looked down in alarm, startled from her daydream.

"Oh, Horatio, it's only you." She said, her cheeks warming up despite the weather. Horatio observed this reaction and made a mental note of it.

"Will you come back to the middies berth with me? It's freezing up here."

"I'm not cold." Victoria said, shivering as she did so. One corner of Horatio's mouth quirked up in a smile and he took her hand off the slick line and pulled her into the warm embrace of his cloak. Horatio was a whole head taller than Victoria, but she made herself even smaller by bending her head and nuzzling into his chest like a cat. "Mmmm, you're warm." Horatio swallowed and pulled the cloak tighter around her.

"Why did you come up here?" Horatio asked, genuinely curious as to why anyone would willingly put themselves at the mercy of these elements.

"I told you, I like the rain." A drop fell off the brim of Horatio's hat and landed on her lip. As if to emphasize her point, she darted out her tongue to catch it. Horatio watched as she turned her face into the fabric of his coat and breathed in deeply. "But I think I'm ready to go back now." Horatio chuckled despite the chill he was feeling and, without thinking bent to kiss the top of Victoria's head. Victoria smiled into the woollen fabric and straightened up. "Lead the way, Mr Hornblower."

* * *

A **massive** thank you to **chatonne2005** for reviwing, and an apology to have kept you waiting so long. That's two pints of rum for R&R-ing, and another two for the inconvenience!

Remember, reviews keep me writing! If you get all this for one review, you'll probably get War and Peace for 20! Well, maybe not quite...


	3. Nasty Jack

**Nasty Jack**

She had arrived a week after Annabelle. She was the only female to have had some notable experience on a ship when she had first arrived, though it was confined to observing crewmen from afar. The men had talked about her naturally, just as they had talked and thought about the other two women recruits. She, unlike the other two brunettes, had reddish-brown hair that came down to between her shoulder blades when it was braided. It was cut crudely, to keep it out of her eyes, and matted slightly, speaking of a poorer background. Her eyes were vibrant green and her skin was pale and unmarked. She was taller than the other two, standing at around five foot ten.

Rowan stifled another annoyed groan as yet _more _giggles erupted from the two girls she would be sharing quarters with. They were bent over a thick tome, pointing and laughing at every five minute interval. It was driving her insane. The girls, of course, seemed completely oblivious to her aggravation. Eventually she could take it no more. She sat up from her hammock, fixing the two other females with a slightly petulant glare, her head barely missing the low ceiling of the cabin.

"What are you two constantly giggling about?" she snapped, and the two brunettes looked up, the humour in their eyes rapidly changing to a mixture of mirrored annoyance and defensiveness. Wordlessly, Victoria lifted the top edge of the book, giving Rowan a glimpse of the title. "Mrs. Hackerly's Guide to Etiquette?" She raised her eyebrows. "And what is so amusing about that?"

Victoria smiled a little and handed it to her. "Look at the second paragraph." Rowan glared at the offensive book like it was a venomous animal for a second, then took it from the proffered hand and glanced over the suggested paragraph.

"_When approaching a man, it is proper for young ladies to keep their intentions concealed, but always to use h__ints to seduce a man. One must remember, however, that the purpose of the woman is to please the man, and therefore young ladies of this intention must be mindful of the man's wants and needs, no matter how primal or unseemly."_

After a few seconds, Rowan burst out laughing and handed the book back to Victoria and Annabelle. The girls smiled tentatively at each other, and Rowan looked down as she had realized the fault of her annoyance.

"Sorry for the episode," she muttered, not liking to be proven wrong or in the wrong.

"That's quite alright," Victoria replied. "It is really funny." It abruptly came to the women's attention that, though the first two recruits knew each other well, next to nothing was known between them and Rowan, aside from their names. "So…how did you end up here?"

Rowan shrugged nonchalantly. "It was this or continue to live on my father's ship, and I figure the Navy was more appealing than that. Besides," her eyes lit up, "I have always been rather enthralled by the subject of adventure. What about you two?"

"Adventure," Victoria admitted with a grin, "I was sick of sitting around in parlours and listening to simpering ladies talk to my mother about bonnets and their Indian servants."

"My mother has an Indian servant!" Annabelle exclaimed sounding offended. "In fact, we have lots of servants, including" her tone grew haughty and she looked dismissively at Rowan "a scullery maid who looks just like you."

"Annie!" Victoria chided, aware that Annabelle was probably making Rowan's animosity worse. Rowan just snorted. Annabelle looked disgusted.

"Ladies don't snort, Rowan."

"Who said I was a lady?" Rowan said thickly, glaring at this obviously well bred girl and resenting her background almost as much as she resented her presence in the room. Annabelle floundered for a bit, not sure of what to say.

"Well, look at your hands," she said finally " I should have know you weren't a lady." Rowan looked at her hands, puzzled. "They look like farmer's hands," Annabelle sneered venomously, "too much manual labour – although, I suppose that is to be expected of the poorer classes."

"Annie!" Victoria exclaimed again, glaring at her, "don't be so unkind!"

"Your hands will look like this soon enough, milady," Rowan mockingly dipped her head to Annie "Life on a ship is very manual, I suspect those pretty fingernails of yours won't last long." Annie narrowed her eyes and Rowan continued, "So why _did_ you join the Navy?"

"I think we're all in it for the adventure," Victoria answered for her friend, not trusting her to speak.

"And for the gorgeous officers." Annabelle looked at Victoria conspiratorially, having told Victoria of her appreciation of a certain quiet, curly haired midshipman earlier that day. At the time Victoria didn't look pleased, but now she forced a convincing laugh.

"I see," Rowan replied when they were finished, nodding slightly. She had suspected that the two were from a higher class than her, and her naturally competitive side flared with the chance to show them up. It was simply in her nature to want to prove her worth to everyone, and it had made her enemies in the past. "So." She pointed at the book. "Who were you planning on using that on?"

Though Annabelle remained impassive, Victoria blushed crimson. Rowan's eyes locked onto the reaction like a laser, and she sat down across from Victoria, leaning casually against the girl's sea chest. "So…who is it? Go on, tell," she urged, her eyes lightening up in anticipation; if there's one thing Rowan loved, it was to know secrets. "I won't tell anyone, I swear."

Victoria shook her head vehemently. "It's no one, really."

"Yes, and I'm my own grandfather." Annabelle and Victoria looked up in surprised confusion. "You've never heard that song?" They shook their heads, no. Rowan rolled her eyes. "Call me uncultured…I'll guess then, you don't have to say anything. Is it..." She thought over the list of the crew that seemed moderately attractive. Inspiration struck her as she thought about who Victoria spent time with most. "Is it…Mr Hornblower? It is, isn't it?"

"I'll never say," she mumbled, looking down.

"It's alright Victoria, I won't tell. Cross my heart. But one word of advice?" Victoria looked up sceptically, wondering what this secret-stealing guttersnipe could tell her that she didn't already know. "Don't follow that book's instructions. Some men may like that sort of thing, but Horatio doesn't seem that kind of guy."

"What would you know about that?" Annabelle cut in snidely, angry that she might have some competition for the young midshipman.

"Several things," Rowan replied smoothly. "There are three kinds of men." She held up her fingers for emphasis, lowering them as she counted them off. "The forward, the shy, and the…different. You don't need to worry about the different, because Horatio isn't that way as far as I can tell. I think he would be more shy than anything else, but he's clever too; he will have already gotten the subconscious information you have been sending him anyway, whether you knew you were doing it or not. And, call me crazy, but I don't think that you would only pay attention to the man's needs. I sure as hell wouldn't. So, just go with it and he'll be yours before you can say 'etiquette.'"

Annabelle looked repulsed at the candid speech. She wrinkled her nose in disgust and sat back, cradling the book in her hands like it was some old priceless relic. "Where did you get that thing anyway?" Rowan asked.

She shrugged in response. "I found it on my hammock. I think one of the crewmen found it and put it here as a joke. The page was bookmarked."

"Really?" she raised an eyebrow, wondering just what the crewmen thought to get out of it. "Well, you two have fun with your book. I'm catching some sleep before my watch. 'Night!"

"Sleep well, Rowan," Victoria replied with a slight smile, already thinking of someone else. Annabelle sniffed and said nothing.

The next day was Sunday, and the crew got the afternoon off to make and mend. Keene made this announcement to the assembled crew earlier in the morning, and with it, promised that if weather permitted, they would be sailing for the channel in a couple of days. Everyone brightened, and that afternoon all the sailors staked themselves out a space on the sunny deck and set to work with their clothes, most of which didn't actually need much mending due to the ship's inactivity in the recent months.

Victoria sat on the rail at the bow of the ship, with her feet dangling down next to Annabelle's shoulder who sat in the shade of a cannon. Rowan was sprawled full length on the rail next to Victoria, leaning her head against her friend's arm, one foot flat on the wooden rail and the other on the cannon Annabelle sat next to. Lt Eccleston was about to yell at the two midshipmen to get off the rail, but Captain Keene told him he didn't care where they sat. A few men had been allowed to swim in the grey water anyway, and the Captain informed his quietly fuming lieutenant that it was their own fault if they fell in.

The girls were oblivious to all this though, and they seemed content with the arrangement, Rowan reading, Annabelle embroidering her name on a shirt, and Victoria drawing in a large black book. Once or twice Rowan had tried to see what Victoria was drawing, twisting her head around and looking over her shoulder sneakily. Each time, Victoria tilted the book so Rowan couldn't see and continued drawing.

The other middies sat opposite them, Horatio and Archie, sitting in between a cannon directly opposite, Hether and Cleveland in the next space along, discussing the half naked women in the West Indies, and Clayton on the other side of Horatio, leaning over the cannon that separated them to point something out in Horatio's book. Simpson sat alone, a few spaces along from Hether and Cleveland, leaning against the side and glaring at anyone and everyone, his torn shirt and mending equipment abandoned sulkily on his knee.

Victoria shaded in Horatio's neck cloth and smiled at the picture.

"It's a good likeness." Rowan said, having finally managed to capture a glimpse of Victoria's drawing undetected. Victoria tilted the book away to shield Rowan's view, but realising it would do no good she let Rowan look at it.

"You really think so?"

"Mmhm, have you done any others?" It turned out; Rowan saw when Victoria handed her the book, that she had been drawing him all afternoon, in various poses and stages of undress.

"You'll need to draw me one of these," Rowan pointed to an artistic composition of Horatio, clad only in his tight breeches, lying elegantly on the rail next to the main shrouds, with the sunset behind him and the wind in his hair. It was only black and white, but such was Victoria's talent that his skin almost seemed to be glowing. "Only of Archie, and with no trousers on." Victoria laughed and a few of the seamen looked up.

"Wait, why Archie?" Rowan realised what she had let slip and glared darkly at Victoria.

"Tell no one." Victoria promised, and laughed off the threatening tone causing Rowan to smile too. Rowan turned the page and saw a fanciful drawing of Horatio and Victoria standing under a tree, Horatio in an elaborate captain's uniform and Victoria in a beautiful ball gown with a fitted bodice, a tiny waist, and gigantic lacy skirts; on her head was a jewelled tiara and her hair was pinned in place on the top of her head, a few long waves tumbling down her back. Horatio had one arm around Victoria's shoulders and his nearest hand on her hip, he was kissing her passionately. Victoria's hands were on Horatio's collar, holding him to her. Rowan smiled at the happy scene, they looked good together, although Victoria had drawn herself taller so she was Horatio's height. Rowan turned to the page before. This one was slightly less sweet and she quickly flipped straight to the front of the book, staring at the landscapes and pictures of horses to try and get the image of the two naked lovers out of her mind. It was well drawn though, she had to admit, and she couldn't resist flipping back to peek at it again.

"What's this?" A shadow fell over the girls and Annabelle looked up angrily, about to tell off the person who had blocked her light. She recognised Simpson's face and thought better of it, edging away from him as much as she could. Rowan and Victoria looked at Simpson guiltily, Rowan shutting the book with a snap. Simpson snatched it out of her hands.

"Hey!" Rowan made a grab for the book, but Simpson stepped back and she nearly fell off the railing. He opened the book at the first page and looked critically at the landscape.

"These are rather good." He admitted, sounding sincere. No one knew, but Simpson, for all his other failings, was actually rather good at drawing himself, and he could appreciate just how well done these were.

"Um…thank you." Victoria blushed, she didn't usually let people look at her work, although she supposed she'd let Rowan so it was only fair to let Simpson too.

Simpson turned the pages carefully, not wanting to smudge the edges of the drawings; not for Victoria's sake, but because one would truly have to be a boar to maliciously ruin such art, he thought. He stopped at one page and his eyes widened. A second later, and his mouth twisted into a cruel sneer.

"It's a good drawing to be sure, but I fear it may be wishful thinking." He turned the book around so Victoria could see what he was referring to. "Especially _that_." He pointed to Horatio's overlarge penis and his head in between Victoria's thighs. Victoria turned scarlet and just stared at Jack's sneering face; Rowan tried to grab the book off Jack, but failed again. "Perhaps I should go and show Mr Hornblower?" Jack said, turning the book back around and contemplating the image again. "I'm sure he would appreciate it." He turned as if to cross the deck and Horatio, Archie and Clayton, who were watching him, all quickly looked away. Jack grinned at Victoria over his shoulder and she jumped off the rail and darted in front of him. Jack was rather tall, and Victoria's head only came up to his chest.

"Jack," she hissed pleadingly, knowing she could never stop him by force, "don't." She reached for the book, but Jack held it behind his back. Rowan, who had snuck up behind him, snatched it out of his hand and retreated quickly to the rail as he turned around. They fought over it for a few seconds, until Rowan over zealously pulled it out of his hands and accidentally lost hold of it herself, flinging it backwards into the water. Victoria ran to the rail and watched it splash into the grey water and slowly sink below the surface, her hands white knuckled on the rail. A sailor, swimming close by, saw the commotion.

"Get that!" Rowan yelled desperately, pointing at the spot where the book disappeared. The sailor dived under the waves and Victoria tore herself away from the rail, running across the deck with tears in her eyes and disappearing down the ladderway. Horatio saw all this and stood up, he knew better than to fight with Simpson on deck, in plain view of the officers and everyone else, so he turned to follow Victoria.

"Horatio." Archie said softly from where he was sitting on the deck. "Leave her; I don't think she'll want to talk to anyone right now." Horatio reluctantly sat back down, frowning and trying to forget about the eyes of the officers and crew on him. Lt Eccleston finally came to a decision.

"Is anything the matter Mr Simpson?" he called from the quarterdeck.

"No Sir, just a misunderstanding." Simpson sauntered over to his solitary spot between the guns and sat down again, pretending to resume the mending of his shirt.

Some hours later, the make and mend afternoon was called to an end and the sailors dispersed. Horatio immediately got up and went down to see Victoria, hoping she had calmed down by now. Archie and Clayton made their way to the midi's mess; sure Horatio would regale them on the condition of their friend when he came back.

Horatio pushed aside the canvas curtain and Rowan nodded her head for him to come in. Victoria was sitting on her hammock, kindly brought down by Annabelle, with her knees drawn up and her face buried.

"Victoria?" Horatio said tentatively, putting his hand on her shoulder. Victoria looked up briefly. She was in a sorry state; her eyes were red and loose tendrils of hair stuck to her pale face, salty tear trails evident on her skin. Horatio took a handkerchief out of his pocket and crouched down to wipe them away, but she buried her face in her knees again and stubbornly refused to look at him. "Victoria," he tried again, gently peeling some of the damp hair off her face and tucking it behind her ear, "what happened?"

"It's nothing," she said in a muffled voice.

"Simpson took her sketchbook, and it accidentally got dropped over the side."

"Oh… did it mean a lot to you?" Horatio wondered why she was so upset over some idle drawings.

"Go away, Horatio!" Victoria snapped in a teary voice, embarrassed that he should see her like this, and embarrassed about the drawings she had done of him earlier that caused this whole fiasco. Although he couldn't possibly know about them. Horatio, slightly hurt, he was only trying to help after all, left the girl's quarters and slumped at the table in the mess, ignoring the others' inquiring looks.

"What was wrong with her?" Clayton finally asked.

"She was trying to hide something from young Snotty here," Simpson said, gesturing to Horatio. "I thought it only right that he should see it since it concerned him, but she didn't want him to know."

"Know what? Rowan said her sketchbook was lost, I doubt that concerns me."

"Perhaps I should show you, Mr Hornblower? After all, it seems only fair." Simpson produced a sheet of paper and a pencil from under the table; obviously he had been planning this.

"I don't want to see," Horatio said. "If she didn't want me to see then I think I shall respect her wishes." Simpson just bent his head over the paper and started to draw, after ten minutes or so, he raised his head and put down his pencil triumphantly.

"There, finished. Of course it's only a rough sketch, nothing near as detailed as the original, but it should give you an idea Mr Hornblower." Simpson skimmed the paper along the table to Horatio. Horatio refused to look. Cleveland however, had no such scruples.

"God Horatio, you have to see this!" He showed Hether and they both laughed. "She actually drew this?"

"And a few others besides," Simpson smirked.

"Look at this, Clayton!" Hether took the drawing off Cleveland and pushed it across the table to the older man. Clayton refused to look, but Archie couldn't resist a quick peek. His eyes widened with surprise and his cheeks flushed pink. Curiosity got the better of Horatio when he observed his friend's reaction, so he reached over and picked up the paper by a corner, twisting it round and holding it up in front of his face so he could make out the picture.

"Is that me?" he choked out, turning red to the very tips of his ears and looking at Simpson questioningly. Simpson nodded smugly, and amongst Hether and Cleveland's laughter, Horatio left, screwing up the picture in his fist and shoving it in his pocket.

He went for a walk on deck, hoping the fresh air would clear his head. Unfortunately it just made it easier to think, and that was what he found himself doing.

0000

"Miss?" A sailor poked his head around the curtain to the female middie's berth. Victoria was looking better now, and she was almost laughing along with the other girls. They all turned to face the intruder, smiling. "We dried this out on the galley stove for you, 'fraid it ain't perfect, but it were the best we could do." He held out the black book and Victoria rose from her bunk and took it from him. She caressed the leather cover with her hand.

"Thank you." She smiled up at the sailor, with real gratitude in her eyes. "Thank you very, very much." The sailor smiled kindly back and knuckled his forehead, then he nodded to the other midshipmen and left. Victoria opened the book and looked over the wrinkled pages; some of the pencil had been washed away, but miraculously, most of her drawings had survived. Not perfectly intact, but still recognizable. She closed the book and hugged it to her chest, before kissing the cover affectionately and tucking it in the bottom of her sea chest and sitting cross legged on the lid, beaming. Rowan and Annabelle exchanged glances, and after a second resumed their (surprisingly civil) conversation, Victoria chirping in every so often.

0000

Horatio went back below decks at the end of the second dog watch with the intention of going to sleep. Most of the sailors were still up, so the deck was alive with activity, but when he reached the middie's berth, he found Victoria and Annabelle already sleeping. Rowan was reading in her hammock.

"Oh, I'm sorry." He made to leave.

"No, it's alright." Rowan nodded her head towards Victoria, "Go ahead." Horatio wondered how she had read him so easily, but instead of asking he simply walked over to Victoria's side and kissed her on the forehead.

"Goodnight." He whispered, and then he straightened and smiled at Rowan. "Goodnight Miss Arello."

"Goodnight Mr Hornblower." Rowan replied, resisting the urge to call him by his Christian name and seem too familiar. Horatio left to discover his own hammock; he didn't think he could stand going back to the mess. Rowan chuckled and shook her head, returning to her book, and wishing that Archie would soon come in to kiss her goodnight.

* * *

Thank you to everyone who is still reading this story! And thank you to my two reviewers! as always, reviews are always much awaited and much appreciated, so even if you only have a word or two, we'd be glad to hear it!

PowderMonkey & Higher Magic xxx


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